


Netflix?

by The_Grasshopper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bees, Gen, POV Sam Winchester, dean negative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grasshopper/pseuds/The_Grasshopper
Summary: A short conversation between Sam and Castiel. Set some time in early s11, I think.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Netflix?

Sam couldn't have got more than a couple of hours of sleep, when he found himself back in the cold and dark of the bunker. On his mind was a question that often wormed its way into his thoughts. He spoke it aloud this time, for no particular reason than to hear it.

"Would Dean be better off without me?"

The empty room revealed itself to be not so empty after all; there was the sound of someone shifting, a slight rustling of fabric, and then he received an answer.

"I think _you_ might do better without _him_ ," said Cass.

Sam remembered now. He had been sitting on the chair between him and the door when he went to sleep. He frowned at the reply. "No."

"He hurts you. A lot. Betrays your trust..."

"But I-"

"And he hurts himself on your behalf and asks you to shoulder it. He wouldn't cope without you. He needs you."

Despite himself, Sam smiled at that. And then he thought about what Cass had said first. Dean hurt everybody - that what Dean does. "He hurts you too." 

"I am a celestial being. I can take that hurt."

"Well, I've been in Hell. With Lucifer." A conversation ender usually. Sam wasn't sure he wanted the conversation to end, but he didn't want it to continue. Things were better with only his own mind to bounce these thoughts off.

Then Cass spoke again. "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam's chest grew tight and painful suddenly; he had to bite his lip and focus his breathing for a few moments before he could speak. "Thanks."

Silence

The pain in his chest intensified, and he felt his palms grow damp beneath the blankets. Images - memories - of pain, degradation, torture graced his mind like flashes of lighting in the black room. Between the jolts he heard Cass stand and head for the door, and he braced to be alone once more. Instead, a light cut through the dark.

No hellfire.

No bars.

No Lucifer.

Just Cass.

Cass had turned from the doorway and sat himself back in the chair between him and the door. For a moment he felt a flash of fear. He was silent, sat between him and the door.

Picking up the remote from the table, Cass finally spoke again. "Netflix?" he asked, and Sam let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding.

He unclenched his fists and moved the blankets down, slowly shifting to sit up against the headboard. "Yeah." He attempted a smile, directed at the TV instead. Didn't want to see the pity, or maybe disgust.

There was neither present when he finally looked up. Just a strangely human angel, laughing at inappropriate moments in a documentary about bees. Cass didn't laugh too often.

"You know, you shouldn't let him hurt you like he does. Celestial or not."

"I don't think I have anyone left who doesn't."

"Oh."

The camera zoomed in on a hive, showing one bee spinning around on the comb. Cass smiled again. "Bees really have quite the sense of humour. That one is- oh, well I suppose it doesn't translate too easily." He frowned at the small and energized bee. "You should learn more about them."

"I don't think they teach ‘bee language’ in entomology text books. Or linguistic ones, for that matter."

"That’s disappointing. Perhaps you can only learn by talking to them."

"Yeah, maybe Cass."

**Author's Note:**

> I've mostly been focused on writing my original works, but this came to me last night and I thought I'd post it in case someone else wanted to read it.


End file.
